Chance Encounter
by fleeting.ideas
Summary: “We all have dreams. And for a lot of people here, those carry us away from home, away from all we’ve known. And most of us fail, really we do. And it’s horrible and it hurts, but we adjust. [AUCurrent Day.] [Oneshot.] [Lingering Jetara. Zutara.]


Disclaimer: Maybe I don't even want them! _Oh the fun we would have_

Summary: "And no matter where someone grows up, I guess we all have dreams. And for a lot of people here, those carry us away from home, away from all we've known. And most of us fail, really we do. And it's horrible and it hurts, but we adjust. And we change our dreams. And we _move on_." [AU/Current Day. [Oneshot. [Lingering Jetara. Zutara.

Dedication: To those lost lives, never forgotten pasts, and the moments we long for (and shun all at once). A special note, as well, to that couple on the street. Thanks.

- - - - - -

Stepping on the bus, he refused to look back. (_God, I'll miss that face_.) He couldn't dare to glance and see her fallen tears (_Coward._), but he could not dream of letting her see the ghosts in his own eyes.

That would be worse then death, worse the leaving—which was pretty damn bad in it's own right.

_Why_ was he leaving? To go chase some stupid dream? He was never going to be a singer, a rocker. No fan girls, no record deals, not even a guitar for long. There was no chance in hell, in all the heavens, in all the wishes, that he could make it happen. That he could have a happy ending.

_Without her? Of course not._ The nagging voice (Why, it wasn't possibly a conscience, was it, or heaven forbid a reality check?) was aware of his true feelings, or rather, the depth of the feelings, despite that the conscious Jet was not. She was not a high school girlfriend that he had just been with senior year. She was not someone he would forget, nor was she someone he would want to. He loved her, sure he did, and she might love him back, though she was young. Well, no, they were _both_ young. Too young for love, many thought. Still in high school? And being in a heavily invested, hard relationship? What ever happened to the days of parties, booze, and meaningless flings? Or at least, that's what Kana thought. Which was scary (but a little cool at the same time) to hear from your girlfriend's grandmother. Mostly scary.

But, now, they weren't both in high school. Not since Jet dropped out. Pardon, _graduated on his own right_, his _own_ schedule. Ooh… smart move.

The bus lurched forward, taking with it Jet. And any hopes of a relationship with Katara past this point.

- - - - - -

"Jet?"

He had heard his name many times. By lovers, by family, by friends, by landlords, hell, even a few strangers. It had been said in an angry tone most of the time; disappointed was also always a crowd favorite. He had heard it moaned out in the throws of passion, in excitement after a particularly wonderful set (though those days seemed long ago). He had heard it every way possible, but only one person had perfected the art.

"Kat?"

Caused guilt, created arousal before he knew what that was, enlightened his spirit and mood with nothing else but his name. But most importantly, the single way that Jet had longed to hear his name and rarely ever did, besides from her, was in a loving affectionate tone. Only she had ever accomplished this, and in return, he had loved her. He had cherished her, and bent to her will, he had adored her.

He had left her; he had gone to chase a dream in the city of the stars. Though, you wouldn't see them, as the literal ones were blocked out by smog and the literary ones had better things to do then bum in a dinky bar and hear another average mortal searching for everlasting glory. Or at least a record contract promising a warm bed and, too often, another shoot up.

_No, no, no, Katara. Why didn't you get out? Why are we even meeting again?_

"Oh my God! Jet, it's you. Wow! Just... wow!" Jet ignored the twitching cheek muscles, yearning to smile in all earnest at her enthusiasm. He had worked on not smiling. She hadn't gotten any less peppy since high school ending. No less happy.

She stood back to examine him. He looked different, in the worst way. He looked skinny, timid. No longer the big dog on campus, the big fish in a small pond, the big kahuna. He didn't look anything to do with the word "big" except for maybe "utterly far from". His confidence seemed diminished. That twinkle in his eyes, the one of mischief and passion, and above all: hope, was gone. Leaving behind glossy eyes sunken into a paler face then it had been during the best years of his life.

Meanwhile, her eyes twinkled with what he knew to be compassion and pity; empathy and the ever-present threat of self-sacrifice.

She quickly embraced him in a hug. A strangely friendly hug, though, considering their history. Like they had just been lab partners or something. Not the fiery teenage lovers he knew them to be. To have been.

"What are you doing here?" She backed down, and he missed her touch. The warm touch, even if it was only in a platonic way.

He shrugged. What _was_ he doing here? "Just came back, I guess."

"Didn't here your name in the papers. Always looked for it; thought I'd find it sooner or later."

His weak smile faltered. She had a knack for saying the truth in the ways he didn't want to hear it. "Yeah. It, uh, never worked out I guess."

"Not yet, anyway." For some God only knew reason, she had more faith in him then he had in himself. More then he ever deserved, to be honest.

"So, what are you doing here? I thought you had dreamed of getting out of this damn place."

She was put off by his words. This had been their home, still was hers. And she had a nagging feeling that he hadn't had anything close in California. "Just stupid teenage dreams, really."

_He _was now put off by _her_ words. Had what he done, tried to do, been a stupid teenage dream he took too far?

"I dunno, some things just came up. And suddenly, it wasn't all too bad."

"'Some things just came up'? What kind of things?" This confused him, she was usually so forward, so care free, so... naive.

She didn't look him in the eyes, instead glancing at his scuffed shoes. "You know, things." She didn't look him in the eyes when she lied. Always. With an expansive hand gesture, around the lovely bus depot, "Life. Life got in the way and changed everything."

"It has a habit of doing that." He understood. All too well.

They drifted into another uneasy silence.

"I still can't believe it's you, Katara. It's been so long," Jet reached a hand up to lightly cup her cheek.

They stared into each other's eyes for several moments; Jet's deep brown-almost-black eyes meeting Katara's striking azure blue. Katara leaned into jet's touch, though never once breaking a straight on and full eye contact. Reminiscent of what they had been a lifetime ago. Without warning, Katara pulled back, leaving Jet's arm reach and looked down. She seemed embarrassed, or ashamed at her actions.

Jet cleared his throat; he too was embarrassed, because of her bashfulness, and his own impetuous behavior.

"You know, you're still the same. Your hair's changed, not in a braid anymore." Katara laughed at this, she was far too old for a braid. Jet lowered his voice to a whisper, "The same gorgeous eyes." Katara blushed. "These past few years have been good for you. You've… aged, quite nicely. Become quite the sight, Kat."

She, in thanks of his flirtatious compliments, offered a small smile, though no longer met his eyes.

"Please, Jet, you can't." Straining every word, in a bitter quiet tone,

"Can't what? I'm just telling you how beautiful you've become—how beautiful you've always been."

"_Please_, Jet, this… it just can't work anymore. Don't ruin our by-chance meeting."

"Ruin? I'm not trying to ruin anything, when have I _ever_ ruined anything with you?"

Katara gave him a look. It carried in it pain over his abandonment, and the smallest bit of truth: he had ruined everything between them.

She glanced at the clock (again, unknown to Jet she had done this painfully often in the past few days).

People whirled by, the faint sound of beeping horns and rushed goodbyes. The sounds of a busy bus depot, full with people leaving and coming. Arriving to home, after too long an absence. For every one of those people, there was another getting out. Getting out to do something better, getting out because they had to. They were all just going through life, a bus depot hardly anything to stop at, nothing worth noting.

Jet had been one of those people, abandoning what he had known all his life to make something for him, to try. He had failed, and for every hundred people that failed, every hundred dreams and hundred sets of talent, someone _maybe_ made it for their _almost_ 15 minutes of fame. He was a sacrifice to the fickle gods and goddesses of fame and fortune, of prosperity and pride. He was worthless; meant to live a mundane life among the mortals, gaze upon those who had trampled over him. Who had started off just like him, mostly, and gotten lucky. Or let someone else "get lucky", some other tramp.

Katara's soft voice pulled Jet out of his musings, self-pity, and resentment.

"When you left, it came as a shock. I was there, watching you go, but somehow, you just couldn't leave. And I was crying, and that's when I knew you weren't going to be around to wipe away any more tears.

"I knew I had to move on; Sokka told me more times then I can count that you were no good for me. Hadn't he told me this was what was going to happen? Aang and Toph had known, all along, that you weren't going to be anything long lasting. I didn't find that out until later.

"They had liked you, sure enough, trusted you for the time being. But they told me I wasn't your dream, or your happy ever after."

She glanced his way, the faintest of tears glistening in her eyes.

"I _needed_ that happy ever after, needed to believe in something. We don't live in a good town, Jet; this place has seen a lot of pain and a lot of bad things. Growing up in something like that, we all needed to have a dream.

"And no matter where someone grows up, I guess we all have dreams. And for a lot of people here, those carry us away from home, away from all we've known. And most of us fail, really we do. And it's horrible and it hurts, but we adjust. And we change our dreams. And we _move on_."

He couldn't meet her eyes. She had just made a general statement, speaking to human nature (something she really had always had a habit of doing, to understand the world as a whole), but deep down, it had been a reprimand. And a closing, they weren't teenagers anymore, weren't lovers anymore. And they'd never be either of those things again.

Maybe they'd always in love. Maybe your first love never leaves you, changes you deep down and stays with you through life. Maybe that's even worse.

Another bus pulled in, right in front of them this time. It held people, and dreams, Jet guessed. It held a future and a past, a heart and a brain for each weary passenger. And weren't they all tired by now? Hadn't they all just had enough?

And it held a man, walking towards them. The cocky sort Jet hated, someone who dressed well and shot straight. Went to work, earned a living, existed in his small little world. Not bothering to think out of the cubicle. The type of man Jet knew he should be, but never would. Probably never even could.

This man, he wasn't walking in their direction, he was walking _right toward them_, picking up his pace, too. A smile began to blossom on his face, and Jet could just tell that he was hurrying to get to some girl.

Jet was right, almost.

"Zuko!" Katara ran off to meet the man halfway.

Not some girl, his girl. Ah, his _old_ girl.

Zuko picked up Katara, and quickly twirled her around. Made Jet dizzy, but Katara seemed to love it. He young, infectious laugh shrieked through the bus depot. Those who heard it, even at this odd hour the depot held plenty of souls, smiled in the very least at the young pair of lover's joy, just to be back together.

Jet even almost smiled, almost was happy just that they could be happy.

Zuko slowed down, placing her feet back on the ground much slower this time. He bent down, and cupped her cheek with his hand, (_hadn't Jet done that only a few minutes ago? Hadn't he done it years ago?_) and kissed Katara. A slow, yearning kiss. One that gave them all the time of the world, just to be together. Zuko's smile blossomed under Katara's lips again. Giving Jet the impression that this definitely wasn't the first time that they'd ever done this, and they would both make sure it wasn't the last by a long shot.

They finally broke, though Zuko's head didn't go far. He began to whisper into her ear, probably words of longing, how much he had missed her, how much he loved her.

Then Katara stopped blushing and looking around at passing people as if they had caught her doing something wrong. And she gained instead a look of excitement, and told Zuko something. With this, Zuko looked downright surprised, but happy.

In the way that only a few knew was happy, finishing his love affair amidst a bus stop, he had returned to his surly self. Though, it was definitely a softer surly then Jet had remembered from his best friend in high school.

The two most important people in his life back then, hell, pretty much the only two people he had ever cared about. Together. In so many meanings of the word.

And, oh yes, he was sure of it, Katara must have told Zuko that she had seen their old favorite person; that Jet was back in town.

And with that, with nothing other then his name, Zuko had walked over, his arm slung around Katara's shoulders, as she picked up his bag. Not quite willing to break his contact with his love, after being deprived.

Zuko stood silently, taking Jet's appearance in, before breaking out in a laugh and saying, "Wow, it's really you. Just... wow!"

"It's really me." Though Jet was tempted to pinch himself, make sure he wasn't dreaming.

Zuko stuck out his hand, an offer of friendship. An offer of recurring friendship, it would seem. His eyes danced in the mildly dim light in the old building, shining with amazement.

Jet took his hand, laughing as well. Though his wasn't as strong; wasn't as robust and happy. Nothing Jet did was robust and happy; most everything Zuko did with Katara was his own robust and happy nowadays.

"So… Zuke… how have you been?"

"I've been... I've been well. Better then I've been most my life." Zuko hadn't had a happy childhood; hadn't told Jet this, but he still knew. In that way a best friend really can.

Jet, too, took time to take in Zuko's appearance. He was wearing a polo, a disheveled one from a bus ride several hours too long, but still a polo. Teenage-Zuko, the one Jet knew, would never have been caught dead in a polo. Never anything in such a pale blue, for that matter; Katara must've bought it. And so Zuko would wear it proudly, for her. Puff out his chest, his, to be frank, buff chest.

"You look like a different man, Zuko. Gone is the one I knew." _Gone is a lot I knew._

"Ah," sticking up his index finger in protest, "I am now a man. Katara helped me become that." With a loving gaze and a faint smile to Katara. Mildly revolting to Jet, but it more conjured feelings of jealousy then disgust. _Could she have made him a man?_

"Things have changed since we knew you, Jet. It was… weird, having you leave like that. I was, honestly, a little hurt you had never told me. Who else had you spent so much time talking about leaving then with me?" Katara no longer looked at the conversation and its partakers, but at the tiled floor, her small smile disappearing.

"But I—we, got over it. Adapted, more like it. But, I think you did some of that too. You look different Jet." And Zuko, Zuko was just blatantly truthful. Sparing any shred of decency he would've given Jet in the beginning, he was right back to where they had left off. Right where Jet had earned a telling off.

"_How are you?_"

"I'm, you know, living." Jet tried to offer a smile, in some form at least, a reassuring one. Probably one that came up just a little short, like everything he did.

Jet gazed at the happy couple, as Zuko narrowed his eyes and looked much closer at the old friend. Jet liked what he saw (For the record, Zuko decidedly did not). He was happy for them; if anyone deserved love like that, they did. _They_ deserved to be happy, together if that's what it meant, whatever. Jet didn't have the right to care, to mind what they were doing. He didn't have the right to have these people in his life anymore. He had had a shot at that, and ruined it. Killed it dead, really.

"Listen, are you going to be in town much longer? I really want to see you, hear about some exciting adventures in California, and catch up a little. I've, uh, missed you, Jet." He blushed in the manliest way possible, looking down, abashed. Though he soon turned his gaze, this time one of more scrutiny, back to Jet's face. "It's just I've had a long day, most important meeting of my career to date. Hell of a boring one at that, too. Never did get into anything exciting quite like you did, never had a knack for attention."

"Oh, yeah, yeah. Totally, I get where you're coming from" (he didn't, really, never had been one for meetings or anything to do with proper business), "I'm, uh, going to be around for a bit."

"Great," Zuko smiled, squeezed Katara's arm. "Give us a call. You should drop in on Ms. Kana, too, she'd love to see you, I'm sure."

"I'd love to see her, the old fireball." _Even after I broke her granddaughter's heart?_

Zuko laughed. "See you soon then. 'Night."

Zuko shook Katara's shoulder a bit, again. Chased away whatever she was thinking. And started walking away, with her.

"Night." Jet weakly let out, gazing at the departing couple. His own smile ending.

Katara stopped, turned around with a sad look in her eyes. "Goodbye, Jet. It was nice while it lasted." A goodbye she had never gotten to say; one she wouldn't have much of a chance to say again. She knew he wouldn't visit them.

She then began walking again, this time energetic. Deep in light conversation about something or other with Zuko. Something happy and loving, meaningless and shallow.

Jet was left alone with his thoughts, as he curled up on the bench he had been sitting on with Katara. This bench was much the same as any other, in any of the bus stations. At least it was one that reminded him of something worthwhile, something he loved.

He wasn't sure he had liked that. It had been good to see them; familiar faces and long remembered names. But this encounter, so random and unpredictable had dug up a lot of things. Things he had thought he had left behind a long time ago, when he first left this damn place.

Smiles. Emotions. Tears. Hope. Dreams.

- - - - - -

Author's Note: ugh, this has been with me for… three and half months. Glad to be finished with it. How come I can't write anything more then the first 300 words when I come up with the idea and for months I can't do anything with it, but then I bang out the rest in two days? My writing style confuses me. Hopefully, though, its results don't confuse you. :

Anyway, I'd love a review and some feedback. Was the Zuko thing too much? Did I totally fall flat on making you feel anything for the old couple? Did I fail completely…? And, dare I say it, did I even do well?


End file.
